


Best Laid Plans

by Mouse9



Series: Tales from Baker Street [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mission Gone Wrong, Mycroft does legwork, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29438646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: Based on a Valentine's Day prompt"I don't care where I'm sleeping, as long as it's with you."An exchange goes bad and Greg must hide Mycroft until their extraction team arrives.  Of course the only place they can find to hide is a tiny room with only one bed.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Tales from Baker Street [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474946
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	Best Laid Plans

The room was a nightmare.

On the run in Palermo, Mycroft was once again reminded why he didn’t do legwork. The deal, that they had been insistent that Mycroft personally see to, had of course gone sideways. He wasn’t a fool. He’d brought his own security and while one of his men was down, caught in the shoulder by a lucky shot, they had managed to allow he and his personal bodyguard- Scotland Yard’s finest, Gregory Lestrade- to escape and find haven in the small town until they could extract them.

Mycroft’s memory of the small town was outdated and therefore the rooms he had managed to acquire were…less than adequate to say the least.

“Right, we can work with this.” Greg said as he looked around the tiny, dilapidated room. It was barely large enough to fit one person, much less two, the bed was old and worn and not even a single width. There was a chair and a stand with a water basin on it and that was it. The water closet was down the hall and Mycroft shuddered to see what the bath, if they even had one, looked like.

Greg opened the curtains, letting light into the small room. It didn’t help in the least. But at least the view was lovely. Mycroft only wished the view had come attached with a better standard of living space.

“There’s enough room here that I can see anyone coming down the road before they see me,” Greg opened the windows and leaned out, his shirt riding up in the back and uncovering not only his back holster and weapon but a strip of tanned skin.

“I must sincerely apologize for this Gregory,” Hands clasped behind his back pushed his posture straighter and hid the clenching of his fists. “This is in no way adequate nor expected. I had a backup hiding place, this was not it.”

“Hey, no worries,” Greg had pulled back inside and shut the window. “Plans don’t always go exactly like they’re supposed to. I think we’re safe for tonight.” Greg looked him over, then to the bed and for that brief moment, Mycroft felt the gaze like a caress. His body tingled with it. 

“The bed doesn’t look too horrible, try to rest up a little and I’ll keep watch. “

“I am fine.”

“Mycroft,” Greg’s gaze was back on him, firm and unyielding. “We’ve got the down time, take advantage of it. Even when we get the call for extraction, it’s still gonna be a chase to get to the extraction point. And we aren’t sure we’ll be able to stay here all night. There are all sorts of potential outcomes that could happen before we get picked up. Take you rest when you can get it.”

“What about you?” Deflection was a staple; he couldn’t possibly think of resting while Gregory was awake and…watching him.

“I can nap in the chair.”

Mycroft glanced at the old, worn, rickety chair that looked as if it were on its last gasp.

“Absolutely not. I can’t guarantee it wouldn’t try to trap you should you try to leave it. Take the bed.”

“I am not going to take the bed. How in the hell am I supposed to keep watch while lying in bed?”

He tried not to think of Greg laid out on the bed. “You need sleep as well.”

“I can sleep in the chair, or if it falls apart, the floor. It’s fine, been done before.”

“Gregory I simply cannot allow you to-“ his voice wavered when Greg left his place at the window and walked towards him. He stopped right in front of him, close enough that Mycroft could make out individual lashes, smell the scent of aftershave under sweat. 

“I’m only going to say this once, because we’re in a high-pressure situation and, frankly, I don’t know when I would be able to be this open again. I don’t care where I’m sleeping, as long as it’s with you.” Brown eyes bore into his, solemn, saying things not able to be spoken…not yet. Mycroft’s breath caught in his throat when a warm hand rested on his bicep, comforting, a promise of something. 

“Get some rest.” He repeated. Licking his lips-a thrill going through him when those brown eyes dropped for just a moment to watch- Mycroft nodded. 

“Very well.”

The hand was gone, and Greg was heading back to the window. 

Fingers trembling, Mycroft gingerly sat on the bed, to attempt some form of rest during this evening. 

And in the morning, when they slipped away from this hostel, hurrying down back alleyways as the reds and yellows of the morning sun begun to rise over the small town to reach a shoreline where a boat would be waiting to take them home, perhaps there would time for the two of them to come to an understanding.


End file.
